Colors of the Heart
by LuminousMinds
Summary: "He never realized just how much he cared for her. Or how much she cared for him." Collaboration with Lily Moonlight.


Authors: Lily & Lum

Rating: K

Pairing: Mac Taylor/ Stella Bonasera

A/N: Hey guys! It's been a while, hasn't it? I apologize for being away so long. First order of business though: I decided to get rid of some of my stories, the ones I thought were incredibly OOC. So for the fans of Deal, that's been taken down, along with some other fics. Talk about your poorly laid plans. That story was a disaster waiting to happen. Second order of business: As you can see, the lovely Lily Moonlight and I have worked together to come up with this amazing one-shot. So to all you SMacked fans, I believe you will enjoy this.

As always, reviews would be lovely, thanks.

Now get reading!

Colors of the Heart

_A Cup of Coffee in the Morning._

Stella's heels clicked along the tiled floor as she walked briskly down the crowded hallway, swerving past several employees. Even this early in the morning, Lab Rats and CSIs alike were frantically running up and down the corridor striving to get their work done. She tried all that she could to not spill a single drop of her coffee, dodging with nimble steps out of their way.

Her footsteps slowed to a halt when she reached Mac's office. She peered through the glass barrier, curious to see what he was up to at this hour. The man was bent over his desk, his right hand twitching a little as he scribbled away mechanically at what little paperwork he had left to finish. And never did he look so tired.

She let out a soft sigh of anguish. It was never a pleasant sight for her.

Brushing her knuckles against the glass door, she saw his dark head snap up, and he immediately waved for her to come in.

"Somebody didn't go home last night," Stella admonished him lightly in a sing-song tone while she sat down on the seat at the front of his desk.

The senior CSI smiled wryly, his sapphire depths resting in front of him, unfocused.

"What gave it away?" he inquired flatly, callous hands reaching toward his neck to loosen his tie.

Stella rolled her eyes, leaning back on her chair. "Oh, I don't know," she replied sardonically, setting her coffee cup down on the table. "I suppose that you wearing the same clothes you wore yesterday could be a contributing factor?" She grimaced a bit. "That and the fact that you look like you haven't slept a wink in God knows how long."

Mac's pale blues connected with her emerald orbs, and he exhaled sharply.

"I know," he murmured, tossing his pen to the side as a sign of defeat. His palm slapped his face, fingers gently rubbing at his heavy eyelids. "It's been a tough week."

Stella eyed her cup of coffee for a moment before turning back to him, her decision made. "Here," she said, sliding the cup his way. "Take this. It might help."

"Stella…" he sighed, obviously hesitant. "I can't…"

"Yes, you can. By all means, take it," she assured him, her green eyes sparkling, "Trust me…you need it more than I do."

Stella stood up, and made her way back toward the entrance. She smirked. "Now if you'll excuse me, I've got work to do," she announced matter-of-factly before making a hasty exit. And as he watched her leave and brought the edge of the warm cup to his cold lips, he couldn't help that small smile that stole from the corners of his mouth.

* * *

_Dinner?_

Mac smiled as he spotted the object of his search for the last fifteen minutes. On consideration, however, perhaps 'object' wasn't the right way to describe Stella...

Definitely not the right way to describe her, he decided as he approached and saw how she was bent over a piece of evidence. Quietly, he walked into the room, keeping his gaze on her and managed to get within a few feet of her.

"If you're trying to creep up on me, it's not going to work," she said without raising her head. "I _always_ know when it's you, Mac."

Mac grinned and walked the last few steps to stand beside her, their hips almost touching. "It's always worth a try."

"And you can never refuse a challenge, right?" she said, glancing sideways at him and sweeping a strand of hair out of her face with a gloved hand as she smirked.

"Trying to find you was the challenging part," he told her, peering at what she was working on, while at the same time, noting that she was wearing her favourite perfume and the green shirt that he loved. "I must have walked round the entire lab twice... either you've discovered the secret of invisibility, or my eyesight isn't what it used to be."

As she straightened to face him, hands on her hips, Stella shook her head at him, a smile dancing on her lips. "Neither. I just didn't want to make it too easy for you to find me."

Mac raised an eyebrow and leaned sideways against the table. "You knew I had an APB out on you?"

Equally deadpan, Stella replied, "I received intelligence that that was the case."

"I see." Mac nodded slowly. "Trying to evade capture."

Stella folded her arms, her eyelids lowered ever so slightly, but the green of her eyes gleaming beneath. "So you were trying to capture me, huh?"

"And you eluded me pretty successfully, up until a few minutes ago," he said, his eyes sliding up and down her in an appraising look even as his lips twitched with the effort of staying poker-faced.

Stella pursed her mouth and narrowed her eyes further. "Okay, so now you've caught me. What do you want?"

"I have a question for you," he began and Stella nodded, dipping her chin in an encouraging movement.

"Go right ahead."

Outwardly casual, but with an inexplicable nervousness inside, Mac straightened up and shoved his hands into his pockets, frowning. "I wanted to ask you..." He faltered for a moment and a tinge of apprehension stole into Stella's gaze. "I wanted to ask if you had nothing else planned after your shift, if you wanted to grab a coffee... and dinner," he added impulsively, gratified when Stella's face relaxed into a smile full of sunshine. "Seeing as I owe you a coffee after depriving you of yours last week."

Stella clasped his hand, her head tipped to the side as she regarded him with a warmth that made him smile. "I deprived myself entirely voluntarily, Mac. You don't owe me."

"I know," he said. "I'm asking you entirely voluntarily."

"Then I accept." Stella smiled in delight and the pleasure that Mac saw in her eyes lightened his whole body.

"Good... so I'll see you later," he said.

"You will." Stella's voice was softer and her gaze lingered on him as he turned, reluctantly, to leave. Dawdling for a few moments in the doorway, he watched her return to her task, bending forward to study it, but not before a glance strayed towards him.

With a grin to himself and a pleasant feeling of anticipation, Mac strode off down the corridor to tackle the afternoon's work with gusto, knowing that the end of the shift could not come soon enough. A feeling, he realised, that he could very easily get used to.

* * *

_Broken and Bruised._

Her fingers reached out to him, and before she could even touch him, she felt him physically stiffen. Her gaze rose up to meet his, searching.

"Do you trust me?" Stella asked.

Mac bowed his head, as if he was ashamed. Ashamed of doubting her, perhaps? He gave her a small nod.

Again, her fingers stretched out to him. Her thumb caressed the clear plastic button at the top of his tattered blue Oxford shirt. And she popped it open. Stella made light work of his shirt as she slowly undid each and every button, one by one. Mac felt his heart beating just a little bit harder against his ribcage.

She pushed the coarse fabric from his broad shoulders, and he gritted his teeth, wincing as the material scraped against the broken skin on his back. He heard it fall to the floor with a soft 'thump'.

Stella's sparkling green eyes dulled at the sight of him. She could do nothing but look at his back, taking in the various contusions and scratch marks.

"Oh, Mac…" she whispered. And she smiled then, despite the serious situation. "Boy…he really did a number on you, huh?" she quipped, the tips of her fingers gently grazing his bare back. Now, he didn't want to, but he smiled as well. How she always managed to do that, he would never know.

"You could say that," he countered, giving her a sideways glance before turning back to face the lockers in front of him.

She had him sit down on a bench, and quickly went to work on his injuries. Taking a bottle of rubbing alcohol, she poured a bit of the clear liquid on a cotton ball. Stella tilted her head, trying to get his attention. "This is gonna sting a bit," she warned him, and then gently dabbed the cotton on the broken skin.

Silence quickly enveloped them as she tended to his wounds. A shiver ran down Mac's spine as the cold liquid touched him, several drops running down his back. It seeped into the skin, and he emitted a small hiss as the solution was absorbed by the cuts, stinging away the infection. When Stella had finished with his back, she took a couple of steps in front of him and crouched down to his level, starting to wipe away at the bruises on his handsome face. He grimaced slightly.

"I wanted to thank you." She had tossed out the tatty cotton ball, and had reached for another one, continuing the curative process. Mac lifted his gaze to hers, perplexity written all over his features.

She smiled a little. "For saving me today," she said, as if it was obvious. "If you didn't show up when you did, I—"

"—Stella."

She stopped herself and waited. His head drooped and his mouth opened just enough to take a deep breath before speaking.

"I'd do it all over again." Mac averted his eyes when he felt her unwavering stare and a pink hue colored his cheeks. "In a heartbeat."

_Stella was stunned, laying on the cold ground, staring into the dark barrel of a steely grey gun, and she felt as if her legs were made of concrete, because no matter how much she wanted to, she could not get up. She heard her attacker pull back the hammer of the pistol, and saw his gloved finger hug the trigger. She closed her eyes, waiting for her demise, when Mac called to her, the despair in his voice echoing in her ears._

"_Stella!"_

_In an instant, the senior CSI broke in, slapping away the pistol from her attackers' hand, and turning to look at her, with fear etched in his pale blue eyes, he uttered only one word: "Run."_

She shuddered slightly at the memory, still fresh in her mind.

"Okay, Superman," Stella said, her hand picking up speed as she sterilized the last wound along his jaw line. He could feel that patch of skin tingle, but not from the disinfectant. "I believe we're all done here. You can get up now."

He let out a grunt, standing up while Stella followed suit, and stretched himself out from sitting in that uncomfortable position. "You're too good to me, Stell," Mac stated.

The curly haired detective rolled her eyes. "Somebody's gotta take care of you," Stella remarked. "If not me, then…" Her arms swung to her sides as she let out a small yet exasperated sigh. "Well, you get the idea."

Stella then picked up his shirt from the tiled floor, and held it up for him, inviting him for an easy re-dress. Mac willingly accepted, swinging his arms back while she slipped the piece of clothing on him. She then shifted in front of him, her hands drifting from his shoulders to his chest, to make way of each of his shirt's buttons.

Her eyes lifted to meet his as she fiddled with the last of his buttons. They held each other's gaze for quite some time afterward. Both were lost in the depths of their eyes—her crystal greens with his royal blues.

"Thank you," Mac muttered, his voice low.

She shook her head. "No," she objected, a small smile playing upon her lips. "Thank _you_."

* * *

_Realisation._

He was surrounded by cold. A bitter, cruel and consuming cold that seemed to have wormed its way right into the marrow of his bones. Feeling as if his skin was cracking free of ice as he moved, he forced his eyelids open and looked straight into Stella's fearful gaze.

As awareness came painfully back to him, he realised she was calling his name, asking if he was okay, the urgency in her voice dragging him back to consciousness.

"I'm... okay," he croaked, his throat raw with cold as he blinked, her face shimmering for a moment in front of him. More memory returned. They had been in the car, driving back to the city, on icy roads...

"What - what happened?" he rasped and the concern in Stella's eyes increased.

"We crashed," she said. "Do you remember?"

Pain dug into his head as he shifted, screwing his eyes up as events flashed through his memory.

_Freezing fog, visibility almost nil as they drove back towards the city along a road edged with woods and polished with ice, the wheels slipping suddenly and the car slithering out of control, across the carriageway before plunging over the edge of the road, crashing down, sending explosions of black light through his mind..._

"I remember," he told Stella, voice still rasping as he forced himself to focus on her face, veiled almost with the drifting fog, her breath visible in small, misty clouds. She kept a grip on his shoulders and he was grateful for it. "How'd we get here?"

As his eyesight cleared, he saw the scrape on her cheek and with his fingers shaking slightly, he reached out and touched it. "What happened? Are you hurt?"

A weak smile appeared on her face as she swiped her tousled hair out of her face. "You're the one who was unconscious for almost ten minutes... But no, I'm not hurt. Just a few minor cuts and bruises. Anyhow," she continued, and Mac glimpsed the emotions she was trying to hide behind her light tone, "I'm fine as long as I know you're okay..."

"Nothing that a dose of aspirin won't fix," he said, hoping that what he said was true. But apart from the percussion band apparently playing in his head, he did seem to be unhurt. Gingerly, he moved his arms and legs and felt no pain. Definitely a good sign, which allowed him then to concentrate on other matters while also reorienting himself.

"How exactly did you get us out of the car and where is it?" he asked as she moved round to his side and settled herself next to him, wrapping her arms round her as she did so and exhaling, causing mist to swirl away from her face.

"Most likely smashed to pieces at the bottom of the valley," she stated candidly, glancing at him as his stomach lurched. "I managed to pull you out through the windshield. The car had rolled over a few times, there was gas leaking out of it and it wasn't feeling too stable, so I decided we were better off out of there, just in case. Which turned out to have been the best decision I could have made," she added, her eyes holding his gaze. "Not long after I got you free and away from it, a branch or something it had been lying on gave way and it... fell."

The hush around them grew.

Mac stared at her, trying to imagine just how difficult that would have been, dragging his dead weight out through broken glass, and trying not to imagine what their fate would have been had they still been inside the car when it slipped and fell.

"You saved my life," he said quietly, not knowing what else to say, but Stella understood as she squeezed his arm.

"I was hardly going to have left you there, Mac," she said dryly before a violent shudder overcame her and Mac noticed what she was lacking.

"Where's your coat?" he demanded, twisting round to stare at her in an accusing way, annoyed with himself for not having noticed sooner.

"Had to leave it in the car," she answered, sounding annoyed. "It had gotten caught on something and I couldn't pull it free. I got out of it and left it where it was." Another shudder convulsed her and concern grew in Mac as he saw the totally inadequate clothing she was wearing – her thin sweater and pants were scant protection against the ravaging cold. "And my phone was in my coat pocket. I don't know if yours is going to be in any usable shape," she added.

Mac rummaged in his pocket and produced his phone, grimacing as he looked at it. The screen had cracked into a spider web leaving only a faint image on it, which was little more than a puzzle of fragments. Jabbing at the screen brought some success and he managed to get through to an operator at the third attempt. Whether his message was received and understood or not, he couldn't be sure as the remaining life in the phone dwindled to nothing and the screen blanked before he'd finished speaking.

Stella met his eyes, her face grave as she shuddered with cold. "I'm sure they'll have heard enough..." she offered and he grunted, doubting it.

He shoved the phone into the pocket of his pants and hauled himself to his feet, staggering on stiffened, half-frozen limbs, Stella beating him to it and offering him her hand, which he accepted for her sake. As soon as he was upright, he began manoeuvring himself out of his coat, before Stella demanded to know what he was doing. In answer, he arranged his coat round the two of them, pulling Stella closer to his side as he did so.

"Mac, no," she protested without much vigour in between her teeth chattering.

He simply tightened his hold on her. "I'm not going to sit here in my coat watching you freeze," he said, giving her a long look, to which she pursed her lips and shook her head before sighing and relaxing into his side.

"Think we should try and walk to the road?" she asked just as another gust of fog with the first flakes of a snowfall in it blew splinters of ice-cold over their skin.

"Got to be worth a try," he said, knowing that sitting still, muscles unmoving, was probably the worst they could do. He was pretty sure both of them, Stella maybe more so due to her smaller frame and longer exposure to the elements, were close to hypothermia.

The fact they were both shivering was a good sign and at least the pain in his head had subdued to a dull throbbing; nonetheless, they were in a dangerous situation. The snow, now whirling down, was sticking and starting to blur the edges of their surroundings. Snowflake stars crowned Stella's head and he reached forward, his hand shaking with cold and smoothed them away. She gave him a fleeting smile in thanks and moved closer to him.

"We'll be okay," she said quietly, icicle-like fingers brushing his face, stinging as they touched a cut on his cheek. "They'll be searching for us as soon as we don't show up at the lab."

"They better," he said, only half in jest and Stella squeezed his hand.

With his coat round both of them once again, clasping each other's waists, they pushed forward through the snow which had now become an onslaught. Heads bent, pushing against the gusts and eddies, their progress was slow, far too slow as the blizzard rebuffed them. They struggled on without speaking, needing all the energy they could find, and the snow swirled round them, so light and delicate, so deadly, smoothing every indent their feet made, obliterating the tracks their car had made. Dogged determination and the unspoken fear between them of what would happen if they stopped and let the cold seep into their hearts kept them going. Even though they were almost blinded now by the whirls of snow and clueless of their direction.

They clung to each other, sharing the little warmth they had left in their bodies. Convulsions of cold attacked them and their breathing was jerky and short, each breath drawing in painfully freezing air into their lungs as they waded through the growing drifts. The cold was petrifying and the image of Stella and him sinking down together into the white landscape, snow covering them where they lay, seemed to have seared into Mac's mind...

"No," he muttered fiercely, only half to himself. "We have to... have to keep going."

"Not planning on doing anything else," Stella said dryly and even with his lips almost stiffened to solid, he chuckled.

"We've got to be close to the road," she murmured after a moment and raised her head to look at him, a myriad of sparkling crystals on her hair, her skin almost blue in the snow-light. Again he brushed the flakes off her hair, barely able to feel his fingers, although there was a raw pain starting to gnaw at the exposed skin of his face.

"Got to be," he answered Stella and before he lapsed into silence and he realised how much he was leaning against her as they took a few more erratic steps.

Thoughts he didn't want to entertain started to inveigle their way into his mind; thoughts about things he'd never said, things he'd never yet done... things that might never get to be said or done if he and Stella did not survive. It served to make him even more determined that they would and with a grunt of effort, he moved forward, Stella gamely at his side, keeping him going.

He was slipping into numbness when her cry awoke him and he looked up, squinting through the crazily spinning snow to see a faint blur of headlights ahead of them...

He was warm, at last. Finally the cold had been driven out of his bones and he could feel the comfort of the blankets round him and the boiling cup of coffee clasped in his hands. Swaddled against the snow in the back of a truck, with people milling round, Mac sat next to Stella and breathed deeply.

They were safe.

Taking another sip of his coffee, enjoying the sensation of it coursing through him, he glanced at Stella. Her head was bowed and she sat hunched up, blankets draped round her, her hands still shaking.

"Stella?" he asked in a soft voice and heard with a shock the sob she gave. In a second, he had set down his cup, scooted closer to her and gently removed her drink from her hands before it spilled. Pulling her closer to him, he wrapped his arm round her as she buried her face in his shoulder, shuddering with tears. He simply held her, stroking her back and after a few minutes, she stilled and heaved a sigh. It took another moment or two before she raised her head and stared at him, tears still glittering on her cheeks.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled. "But it... it hit me then, how lucky we were..."

His hand seized hers and he held it tightly, trying to keep his own fear under control. "Don't think about it," he murmured. "We're safe. We made it."

"It was too close, Mac," she whispered, her eyes glinting. "Much too close. What if..."

He didn't give her the chance to finish. Snatching at the moment before it got away from him, realising that if Stella hadn't pulled him out of the car he wouldn't have had this moment, he kissed her. And when she kissed him back, he realised that life as he'd known it was over, and a new life was beginning for both of them, together.

* * *

_Happily Ever After._

A trickle of childish laughter drifted from the living room to the kitchen, where Stella was at the moment. Soon followed the pitter patter of small feet, and later bigger, heavier steps. She smiled to herself and carried on putting away the clean dishes. What finally caught her attention was the loud thump sound that was made on the ground, as if someone had fallen over. Placing the last dish in an open cabinet, Stella went to investigate.

"Mac…" she called out slowly, emerging from the kitchen. When she reached the entrance, her smile returned tenfold. There she found Mac Taylor, sprawled on the living room floor as if he were making a snow angel, with two rambunctious kids hovering over him, fit to bursting with giggles.

"Gotcha, daddy," the little girl with the mess of chocolate curls declared triumphantly, her blue eyes flashing with excitement.

"Yeah!" cried the little boy gleefully, clapping his hands.

Stella could see Mac's face breaking out into a grin, and his body shaking with silent laughter.

"Alright, alright," he ceded, shaking his head. "You've caught me." And then she saw his lips move again, but couldn't hear what he said. He mumbled something along the lines of 'cheaters.' This caused the little girl to gasp, looking honestly appalled at his accusation.

"Nuh-uh!" she protested, sticking the tip of her bubblegum tongue out at her father. "We didn't cheat! We got you fair and square, daddy!"

"Mackenzie…Reed…"

The dangerous duo stopped and turned their heads toward the voice, eyes widened and mouths closed like deer caught in a headlight. Stella's gaze shifted between the two of them.

With an eyebrow raised, she asked, "What is going on in here?"

The brown haired toddler flashed his mother a charming smile, and Stella couldn't help but note just how much he resembled his father. Except for the eyes, of course. He had his mother's eyes. Shining, sparkling depths of green with a permanent smile about them. "We jus' play, mommy," Reed replied sweetly.

Mackenzie's curls swayed as she shifted her attention back to Mac. She pointed an accusing finger at her bemused father. "Daddy started it," she deadpanned, to which Mac responded with an incredulous laugh.

"Oh he did, did he?" With difficulty, Stella kept her face straight as she stared at Mac who protested his innocence.

"He did, Mommy," Mackenzie nodded vigorously and Reed, copying his big sister, added his voice to the accusations.

"Daddy start it."

Overpowered, Mac shook his head in defeat and Stella burst out laughing as she crouched down next to the little heap of her children and husband on the floor and soon collapsed under the weight of her son and daughter.

Mac sat there grinning, until Stella gasped from underneath her children, "Okay, okay, enough! Time for bed; both of you!"

There were groans from Mackenzie, immediately copied by Reed, but as soon as stories had been promised, they were more amenable to bedtime and Mac led Mackenzie away to get ready for bed, while she took charge of Reed. The little boy was already yawning and rubbing his eyes, nestling into her shoulder as she carried him to his room and she had read only the first two pages of his story before he was breathing deeply, fast asleep.

Creeping out of the room, Stella switched the light off and turned back to look at her son, a smile soft on her lips. As she stood in the dim light of the room, she heard Mac talking to Mackenzie and heard their daughter asking for a story. In reply, Mac suggested she choose one of her favorites from her book-shelf, but that seemed not to be what the little girl had in mind and, more insistently, she demanded that he _tell_ her a story.

Intrigued now, Stella walked down the landing to where the door to Mackenzie's room stood half-open, the glow from her night-light showing through. Positioning herself so she was just out of sight, Stella stood and listened. _"This should be good,"_ she sniggered.

"Well…sweetheart," Mac started, scratching the back of his head. "I'm, eh…not exactly great at these things," Stella heard him say, and she could already picture her daughters' frown of disappointment. "Do you have something in mind?"

There was a long pause. Most likely, Mackenzie was thinking it over, Stella thought.

Mac watched as his daughter pursed her lips and tilted her head slightly toward the left, and he found it oddly amusing. _"Just like Stella,"_ he reflected. The corner of his mouth twitched as he fought back a smile.

"Oh!" Mackenzie exclaimed, beaming at her father. Then she bit down on her bottom lip. "Tell me…tell me how you and Mommy got together." She may have had her father's eyes, but the twinkle in her eye was entirely her mother's. It was a look of pure excitement.

Mac's eyebrows disappeared into his hairline, and Stella, still listening, was floored by the request. Now, _that_ was a story to behold, she mused. It had action, adventure, and of course, romance.

"Are you sure about that, honey?" he asked, his tone laced with amusement. "Are you sure that's what you want?"

Mackenzie gave him a firm nod and an "Mm-hmm." Once her mind was made up, there was no turning back.

"Okay." He smiled then, running his fingers through her milky tresses. "Well, see, the story of how mommy and me got together goes a little something like this…"

FIN.

* * *

_Thanks for reading!- Lily & Lum_


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